


My Scars Belong to You

by AKAuthor



Series: Mine [8]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5194985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAuthor/pseuds/AKAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU. Your soulmates scars are worn on your skin. Daryl gets shot and Rick bleeds for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Scars Belong to You

**Author's Note:**

> Look! It's primary Daryl! I'm less happy with this but it's got a cute factor.   
> Let me know if you have any requests (I've received so many, and am steadily working through them, I promise).  
> I'm wondering about fanart being added to this. I'm alright at drawing so I plan on giving it a shot, but I'd love for you lot to have a go too!  
> Love hearing from you!

Ever since he was five, Daryl held all the scars of his soulmate. While he felt no pain, he was decorated with lashings of scars crisscrossing his back and chest, his only connection with his soulmate.

His soulmate held plenty of marks, a scar from when he stood on a nail; a long scar up his bicep from a bar fight; a mark on the bridge of his nose from when he was in a motorbike accident and required surgery on his right eye socket. At present, Daryl imagined his soulmate would be dappled with small bruises and a couple of scratches scabbing over from tree branches whipping him as he hunted.

 

Daryl for one, kept to himself in the camp at the Quarry. He knew the gossip and had plenty of information on the other survivors. Carl was the son of Lori, but not the child of a soulmate. Lori did not get marks or scars, as such, she had no soulmate and wished for a child to be with her and share her life. Daryl gathered that Carl’s father was a close friend. Shane indulged Lori in human contact of the amorous sort, right up until little Sophia fell and skinned her knee, and in turn Shane’s joint bled and scabbed as Sophia’s did.

Now, Shane kept an eye on the little girl, who blushed and stuttered whenever she spoke to him. Shane used tender words and soft tones, making no move to touch the 12 year old. Carol, her mother, had been suspicious and protective, but eventually given in to her daughter’s pleading and allowed Sophia to accompany Shane around camp.

 

Daryl spent a lot of his time in camp worrying. Years ago, the scars had stopped blossoming over his skin, but the odd cut bled, or a bruise appeared. Two months before the world went to shit, a large bullet hole caved his side in, spouting blood and despite feeling no pain, had Daryl yelling.

And Daryl had not been marked since.

 

After everything, and everyone, the CDC, the highway, Sophia getting lost, Carl getting shot, the Greene Farm was a breath of cool air. Daryl didn’t like these people. They were dramatic and couldn’t keep themselves from fucking things over. So, Daryl spent most of his time in the woods, searching for Sophia, as did Shane, who stayed out of his way and appeared more and more distressed every day. The poor man who was suffering away from his soulmate looked to be fraying at the edges, and began hiding himself away when he was at camp.

In the meantime, Daryl’s soulmate had begun bruising themselves, tiring muscles, and scraping knees. There was relief and pain, at the thought of his soulmate hauling themselves through this life.

 

Daryl was dragging his crossbow in the dirt behind him, side panging with horror with every step, the arrows hole about four centimetres below his soulmate’s gunshot scar. As he approached camp, T-Dog, Glenn, Shane, and Rick ran up to him, the latter pointing a gun to his head and resting his weight heavily to one side. Daryl was in no mood to be targeted and spat at him. Rick lowered his pistol, minute relief blotting in his clear blue eyes.

 

Daryl was flung to the ground as a bang rang out over the still air of the farm. Blood welled from the scrape on Daryl’s temple, and as Daryl went down Rick noticed a wet sensation on his own brow. Shane looked at him with shock and deflected happiness.

 

Later, Rick lay on the bed beside Daryl, whose body was a lace work of pale scarring.

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” Rick muttered, staring at the ceiling. Daryl’s heart continued to pound with excitement.

“I’m proud,” Daryl gruffly stated. “They show that you’re a fighter.” Rick smiled and rolled over, gingerly testing his place opposite Daryl’s heart. A rolling chuckle vibrated into his cheek.

“I waited so long to have my soulmate, and I’m not waiting any longer,” Daryl pulled Rick to him, pressing their bodies close in the comfort, and finally, the scars belonged to the right person.


End file.
